Inner Speech
by toestastegood
Summary: [Slash] The Doctor finds it harder and harder to argue with that annoying little voice inside his head. [Private Conversations Sequel]


A/N : Blah, blah, I don't own them, don't sue.

I didn't mean to write a sequel to 'Private Conversations'. I really didn't. But then I bought the Doctor Who DVDs with Jack in them and… Well, one thing led to another and suddenly this beast had been produced. Tricksy little thing. It _is _recommended that you read 'Private Conversations' before this.

This has slash, and a Jack/the Doctor pairing in it. You don't like, you don't read. Simple.

Anyone who can suggest a better title will be loved and bigged up in this enormous author's note. I'll stop rambling now.

* * *

'You're back here again.'

'Shut up, I'm not in the mood.'

'When are you ever?'

'I mean it. Just…don't.'

'Fine! Fine. Spoil-sport. But you _are _back here.'

'So what?'

'For the fifth night in a row.'

'Please, just don't. Not right now.'

'If I don't bring it up now, you'll just ignore it for ever and ever and ever.' The Doctor sighed, and shifted his position in the chair he sat on. The chair was comfortable enough, but this little conversation in his head wasn't. 'And ever.'

'I won't ignore it.'

'Yes, you will. So let's tackle this little problem of our head on. You're stalking Jack.'

'I am not!'

'What would you call it then?'

'Nothing.'

'Nothing? Honestly, you've been watching him non-stop for days now.'

'That's a lie.'

'No, it's not.'

'I watch both of them; I'm just trying to keep them safe.'

'Yes, but you seem to be keeping Jack safe a lot more than you're keeping Rose safe.'

'Are you implying that I don't care about Rose's safety?'

'No. But I'm implying that you don't sit by Rose's bed to watch her sleep.'

'Shut up.'

'I think I'm going to say no to that request. I'm fed up of you ignoring this _obsession _you have with him.'

'And I'm fed up with you nagging at me about it. You're the one always going on about him.'

'And you're the one that's always thinking about him.'

'I don't _always _think about him.'

'Yeah, you really do. And he's started to pick up on it too.'

'He has?'

'No, but he _should _have, you've been so obvious about it.'

'I have not.'

'You have, believe me. He casually says that he sometimes, occasionally, once in a blue moon has nightmares, and suddenly you're sitting by his bed every night? If that's not obvious, I'm using the wrong definition of the word.'

'I just…I don't need to explain my actions to you.'

'No, you don't, because I already understand them. Kind of. Although, some parts of that murky little mind of yours is a mystery, even to me. I mean, this little obsession with humans and earth in general? Very odd.'

'I just like humans. They're nice.'

'They're stupid.'

'My point exactly.'

'There you go with the confusing of me again. Urgh.' The Doctor smiled to himself, never taking his eyes off of the sleeping form in front of him. Was this wrong? He was just worried.

'Worried over a few nightmares? Sounds fairly pathetic to me -'

'It's not pathetic.'

' - not that I'm trying to hint that Jack isn't worth getting all pathetic about. He is. He _really _is.'

'Now who's pathetic?'

'You.'

'Shut up.'

'No. Listen, I'm really glad and all that you've decided to take a more active interest in our 'companion'. But…I'd prefer an active-active interest as opposed to this weird passive-stalker-active interest.'

'How can I be stalking him? We live on the same ship.'

'Yes, but not in the same bed. Not yet anyway.'

'You're impossible.'

'Now, Doctor, you don't have any moral high ground left to stand on. You're in his bedroom, for hell's sake, so don't tell me there isn't even a chance of 'something' happening between you two.'

'I…Just don't get your hopes up.'

'Alright! I'm getting laid!'

'What happened to not getting your hopes up?'

'Oh, come on. You're sitting in his room, watching him sleep, and you've just admitted that there's a slight chance of you two getting together. Hah. I'm so getting laid.'

'No, you're not.'

'You're awful at arguing. No points to back your point of view up - '

'This isn't a point of view.'

'Yes, it is. And it's a wrong one too.'

'You can't have a wrong point of view.'

'Yes, you can. And _you _do.' The Doctor was saved from having to answer by Jack's arm moving. It was the slightest gesture, the flick of his hand, but it halted the argument inside his head immediately. For a few seconds, at least.

'Hey, what do y'know. He _does _sleep naked.'

'You don't know that.'

'He's not wearing anything. That usually qualifies as naked.'

'He might be wearing something.'

'Why don't you pull back the covers and see?'

'You can't be serious.'

'I can.'

'Well, I'm not doing it.'

'Why not?'

'I wouldn't even know where to begin answering that.'

'Then don't answer and just do.'

'No'

'Aw, go on.'

'No!'

'Spoil-sport.'

'And proud of it.'

'Wake him up. Bang a drum or something.'

'A drum? Yeah, all those handy drums Jack has lying around his room.'

'Fine, bang the wall.'

'The TARDIS wouldn't be happy with me.'

'I'm sure she'd understand.'

'When did the TARDIS become female?'

'I dunno. When'd you become male?'

'What kind of a question is that?'

'You started it.'

'Did not.'

'Did too!'

'Urgh, shut up.' And the voice did, thankfully. The Doctor sighed in triumph, shifting on his chair. He'd been here for the past few hours; really ought to be heading through to his own bedroom. Jack would be waking up soon, and he didn't want to have to explain himself.

'This _is_ rather pathetic, isn't it?' He asked, startling himself by actually starting up the conversation this time.

'Yup.'

'And I should just go through to my own room, right?'

'Nope.'

'You're going to suggest something filthy, aren't you?'

'Urgh, I can't now, can I? That'd be too predictable.'

'Good.'

'All the same… You're tired?'

'Yes. And I should go to bed.'

'You should go to _his _bed.'

'Jeesh, I should've seen that one coming.'

'You did. You probably set the whole thing up on purpose, just so that I would try and talk you into it. Don't think that I don't know your games.'

'Games?'

'Games. So stop it, and just climb under the covers.'

'I can't do that.'

'You're right. Better remove some clothing first. Doesn't it ever get hot in that jacket?'

'…Sometimes.'

'Then take it off. And take your sweater off. And while you're at it take your trousers off.'

'Stop ordering me to strip. It's…rude.'

'Piss off. It's nowhere near rude. There are some societies that don't even have a word that means 'clothes'.'

'Yes, but this isn't one of them. So I'm keeping the clothes on.'

'Fine, if you must. But you should take the shoes off.' The Doctor found himself slipping out of his shoes, despites his protests. A barely audible snicker sounded up in his head.

'Hey! You tricked me!'

'You tricked yourself.'

'No, I didn't. And I'm putting my shoes back on.'

'Go ahead. We both know how this night is going to end.'

'Yes. With me safely back in my own bed and with nothing changed between Jack and I.'

'Man, you're boring.'

'I'm also leaving.' The Doctor stood up, shoes back on his feet, and with one last longing look headed for the door.

A rustle of sheets, and Jack's hand was unexpectedly locked around his wrist. "What, Doc, no goodnight kiss?" The words were half-mumbled with sleep, but the cheeky grin was still all-too present on Jack's face. The Doctor found himself taking a hurried step back towards the bed before he had a chance to think straight.

'Oh, yeah, I'm getting laid.'

'Shut up.'

'Gladly.'


End file.
